


Kanon's Random Somewhat Spooky Scribblings

by Kanonite



Category: Changeling: The Lost, Creepypasta - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creepypasta, Gen, Hollywood, Horror, Human Trafficking, Lost Episodes - Freeform, Paranormal, Post-Apocalypse, Random & Short, Randomness, Science Fantasy, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Surreal, Urban Fantasy, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanonite/pseuds/Kanonite
Summary: A Croatian weirdo writes some really short, kinda spooky stories cus he thought the ideas were fun.





	1. Tale Of The FilmEater

So, okay. Here's a weird anegdote from when I was a gopher at a Hollywood Studio.

It was my first month, the older staff were running me ragged for coffee, water and coke, and no, I will not tell you who the dealer was.

Anyway, I was doin' my usual runs when I found one of the big-wigs office doors slightly open. I spoke with the guy in question a few times, one of the most decent motherfuckers I had the pleasure of meeting in that band of vultures.

Anyway, dude was at his desk with a whole bunch of old, like, vintage film reels, and loudly muttering something under his breath. And then, he lost his hair and his face, yet he continued babbling as he, I shit you not, started to eat the film. What's also weird is I wasn't freaked out about it, I felt inspired, and the other staff felt the same, like destroying these museum pieces was some kinda good luck charm.

The movie turned out awesome too, and I got to talk with the exec some more after. Such a nice guy, I feel kinda bad for writing this, he was so nice.

I wonder if I can eat film for good luck, too?


	2. The Truth Of Slender Mansion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if Slenderman was a True Fae? It would sure explain a lot...

You've probably heard of the Slender Mansion, you probably haven't heard of the actual truth behind it. Because that is how He gets you.

I was...one of the kids he took away. Like many others, home life was driving me nuts, the other kids at school doubly so, to the point that I honestly felt like those shooters on the TV had a point.

And that's...when he appeared. Big, lanky and in a nice suit like the legends said.He told me he could help me get revenge, on everyone.

All I had to do was follow him into the woods.

I remember the woods getting weird, the trees thinning and stretching and dying until they looked like the one who lived in them. Then, we came upon a mansion, like the stories.Only it, needless to say, sucked. Everything around it was dead nothingness, no garden, no nothing. We walked up to the door and the darkness inside swallowed me.

And that is when the “Trips“ started. I'd wake up in my bed, like it was all a dream, then go to school as usual. Only throughout, the bullies would get even worse than what I remember, as did my parents. Crueler, more illogical. And all the while,a voice, a FEELING in my head kept urging me to stop holding back and murder them all. This was all to make us think were natural born killers and our old life was not one worth returning to.

This went on until I finally did, grabbing the nearest sharp object and going crazy,topping it off by gouging out my eyes…yet I could and still do see just fine. A lot of the other kids mangled themselves in this way, deformed yet not impeding being able to function.

After that,we would awake in the mansion, where He would send us on assignments. Spooking randos with cryptic bullshit, maiming and sometimes killing them, for seemingly no reason other than the tall thing in the nice suit ordered us to, and if we didn't play along, we got set on more "Trips" until we were willing to obey.

Off-duty,competition and mutual ridicule was encouraged. Everyone’s favourite target was this former fat kid who tore a gaping hole in his gut as part of the “Initiation”,we called him “Cheesecake”. Food was this grey, fleshy gruel with body parts in‘em, all to better convince us that we were monsters.

This continued with me for years until something happened, I ran into myself during an assignment. He was EXACT. And in that moment, it was like all that brainwashing just…broke, and I remembered the actual good times I had with my parents. For few moments, I felt…normal.

But then,HE appeared, and I ran, I ran until I was sure he won’t find me for at least a little while, guy is apparently averse to big cities.

I…haven’t seen my clone since then, but the slender one sometimes sends the others for me, to kill me or bring me back. But I’m prepared, and I know the truth.

Come and get me!


	3. 3434: Magic Window

I...grew up in a bunker, as did my parents before me, we didn't have to go outside, the machines took care of food and outside exploration, and there was enough families here to stave off inbreeding, somewhat...

Anywho, awhile ago, our ExCav-bots brought us a fun little artifact from the outside, a thing called a "Television", along with the necessary plugs and wires to have it function. We had our machinists put it together and they were surprised to find that not only it worked, but it received broadcasts, broadcasts from other humans!

So, they hooked it up to some speaker artifacts we had and gathered us in a big assembly to witness our first ever watch-along!

What we tuned into was the start of a little show called "Ritual Hour with Minister Valens", opening with a catchy, if off-key analogue jingle and starring a very clean, middle-aged guy with nice mutton chops!

He sounded very warm and fatherly, as was his smile, and started to detail a ritual to "Dream of Walking in Other Worlds", which he reccomended for "Only to those wanting a moment's vacation."

It was also pretty easy to do, you tuned a television to a dead channel, a drawing of an eye on it, then muttered some words.

It was a hit, and we put out more orders for our bots for more televisions.

Things went downhill from there, as fellow dwellers started to get addicted, and would neglect social and labour duties. It got to a point that the few dozen of us still caring about our world were given an order. To terminate the addicts and leave for the outside, for the chances of a prospering society below ground were ruined. 

We did it, albeit with a fair bit of hesitation, the one's slain were so peaceful, happy even with getting to depart this reality, which made it somewhat easier. And then, we departed the bunker.

We quickly found prosperity on the outside, I myself became a camera worker on Minister Valens' show. When I told him what his ritual caused, he stated that it was intended and those only seeking a temporary escape, that it was not a substitute for rebuilding one's own civilization and needed to be enjoyed responsibly like any vice. And as a rewatching of the episode showed, he explicitly told his audience such, yet this was mysteriously cut from the broadcast we saw.

I felt awful, and so did my peers, in our grief we tracked down our former Bunk-Commander, only to find him converted into...something, something powered by the souls of the addicts we had slain. Our conventional weapons were useless, and we lost several good people, so consider this story a reaching out and a warning, for he is still out there, going by the alias of "Geogaddi", He Who Walks Radiation Without Consequence. 


	4. The Splicer

Are you an aspiring filmmaker and/or prankster? Are you a disgruntled employee looking to horrify and upset your employer without having the blame pinned on you? Youtube think your over-the-top horror parody animation is unmonetizable and so 2000's?

Hire The Splicer. Yes. The Splicer! The one-of-a-kind supernatural contractor who will help get your projects out to the masses! The Splicer is trained in the cloaking, technomancy and super speed you need to orchestrate your very own televised urban legend!

Children will be scarred for life, unusually connected interns will lose their lunch! It will be a blast! Call Now! **REDACTED PHONE AND FAX MACHINE NUMBERS**

PaymentsmustbemadeinBitcoin. Clientmustprovideownfootage. Thesplicerisresponsibleforanytraumaandorvomitingcausedbythefootagebutdoesn'tcare. All Rights Reserved


	5. Trafficking Inc.

*Taken from a forum on urban legends, circa July 2020*

You know TV creepypastas, right? Adult Swim or some other station getting jacked and having a snuff infomercial shown or some shit?

Well, kids, settle down cus I got one from my childhood to tell you!

It was the late 80s, It was about 10 PM and I snuck out of my bedroom for some late night TV watching. I switched to NBC to catch Miami Vice, only to find something else on the air.

It was some kind of infomercial, the kind that would normally be hawking jewelry or tacky-ass furniture. But this one seemed to be offering...people. Not just that, but both the set design and the side bars where they'd show the price and such, were ahead of their time, and it was in a language nobody knew. We thought it might have been Russian at first till someone showed us their alphabet and we realized it didn't match anything. On another, interesting note, the set and the host's were SHINY! Fanciest yet most high-tech place Ive seen up until that point. And the footage? SUPER crisp!

The first person to have a buyer was one "Sh'r Bonntka", a housewife, by the looks of it, complete with short snippets of her showcasin' her skills. She seemed....rather happy 'bout it, and as I learned when the internet became a thing, some crazy bastard went through the trouble of translatin' and said she offered herself as a slave in exchange for leavin' her abusive husband of two months.

The second was this boy, "Verhoeven" is what the guys on the forums call him, even if the right way to say it's been updated. about early-mid teens, who according to that translation, was open to "All kinds of labour", and that his family was promised a generous compensation in exchange for selling their son, who agreed with a weird amount of glee.

The show went on and on, selling folks for all sorts of purposes, usually just manual labour. At the end, however, the current host, this woman with some kind of flashy ass metal in her head, told visitors who wanted merchandise for "Riskier" purposes to tune in at 1:30 AM their time. No one's caught this broadcast, if it even aired, and thank fuck for it. As for the one we saw, turns out it only showed to select viewers on random-ass stations, and whenever someone tried to get word out, it was all swept under the rug.

If ya want proof, ya gotta ask around underground for tape copies, IT won't let you put it online, and will take it and you down in less than a minute if you were to try. 

I said too much already.


	6. Frowning

I am frowning. >:C


End file.
